


A Dance For Two

by Beauteousmajesty



Series: On discovery [19]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Have not seen source content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 02:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21500080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauteousmajesty/pseuds/Beauteousmajesty
Summary: Nationhood isn’t all paperwork and speeches, sometimes Norway gets invited to weddings. Royal weddings are usually great fun, provided he’s not paying. At least Denmark is there to keep him company through the hours of cermemony.(This one doesn’t need to be read as part of the series)
Relationships: Denmark/Norway
Series: On discovery [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/913554
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	A Dance For Two

**Author's Note:**

> I started this one in June. It’s November. As ever, I will continue to be trepidatious about characterisation but the elements of dysphoria do come from my own experience (I started it from a hotel room with a dress laid out and a crushing anxiety about wearing it).

They’re staying in a hotel several hundred miles from home, with clothes laid out for an early morning function. As Norway lays there, awake in the darkness, he worries about waking up tomorrow feeling too dysphoric to wear what he’s picked out.

Norway usually dresses for a mood he’s in, rather than a particular gender, mixing up clothes from different eras to produce his outfits, but this one has been laid out for weeks, ever since their invitation arrived. They’re going to a wedding in the morning, and Norway worries that he won’t be in the mood for the only clothing option he’s brought with him.

Normally, dysphoria isn’t much of an issue for him, the parameters of gendered fashion have altered so much over the course of his lifetime that he can usually justify outfits to himself for whichever gender he’s passing as, whether it’s ankle length robes or crinoline hoops. The outfit that he’s laid aside, however, no matter how much he looks at it, only reads as feminine to him, and he’s not sure whether he’ll be comfortable enough to wear it or not.

He’s perfectly aware that men can and do wear dresses (that Viking law about men not wearing their wives’ clothing was a fruitless attempt to keep Denmark out of his wardrobe), but he’s not always confident enough to pull it off. If he wakes up and can’t bear to wear his outfit, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. The rational part of his brain tells him that Denmark will be happy to swap clothes if Norway uses a little bit of magic to do some alterations. His brain stays awake to worry about it, though, keeping him awake long after Denmark has begun to snore.

He is awoken early in the morning, jet lagged and exhausted, by Denmark’s alarm, which heralds the start of an early morning rush to prepare for a long day of ceremony. He claws himself out of bed and into the shower, using the rush of water to wash the sleep out of his eyes and wake him up fully.

By the time he is done, Denmark has also emerged from bed, and has found all the things that they’ll need for the day. He hasn’t started getting dressed yet, because in over one thousand years of marriage, he’s become well aware of Norway’s concerns about preplanned outfits. Giving Norway the option to steal his suit from the off usually makes their getting ready much faster, and Denmark’s usually a fan of wearing the outfits that Norway finds himself too uncomfortable to wear anyway.

After giving his ribs a quick prod to ascertain what level of pain they’ve settled at this morning, Norway decides to test his outfit out. It’s the kind of outfit that needs Denmark’s help during several different stages, particularly in the lacing of stays so that Norway’s ribs aren’t going to be informing him that they’re broken for at least twelve hours, which should get them through most of the day.

Regardless of whichever outfit Norway chooses to wear, he’d still wear the same pair of stays, as he’s only brought one with him. The only difference in the way he presents is the way that Denmark alters the way he laces it up. Denmark laces with practiced hands, knowing from long experience how tight to make each pass. Norway doesn’t hesitate to give him feedback until he’s satisfied with how it feels. 

The dress that Norway has laid out is a deep burgundy red with a white sash, Denmark eyes it slightly enviously as Norway climbs into it, before moving to help lace it up at the back. It’s at times like this that Denmark is glad that their flags are so similar, as he could easily wear this dress without seeming like he’s wearing something intended for Norway. Nor has a blue jacket to go with it that he slides on, completing his mirroring of his own flag.

Once dressed, Norway is satisfied with how he looks, so Denmark puts his suit on. He likes this suit. It’s dark red, like Nor’s dress and they match nicely. There’s no blue in his outfit, he’s happy with red and white like his flag. The way they’re dressed, they can pass for both a couple and as nations merely dressed to represent their flags, depending on who’s looking.

Norway does his best to sort Denmark’s hair out, trying to pat down its many tufts and cowlicks. He finds several bits of Lego in it before he gives it up as a lost cause. He pretends he doesn’t notice Denmark sticking his Lego straight into his suit pocket to fiddle with later. 

Norway’s hair, on the other hand, is much better behaved than Denmark’s, obediently curling around Denmark’s fingers as it dries. They slide on their shoes after Norway wraps a choker round his neck to hide his scar and then go forth to face the day.

Royal weddings are always decent events (when they’re not paying), and Europe’s remaining monarchies usually throw good parties. They’re each meant to be accompanying their respective royals in attendance but they’ve pulled their favourite argument of Glücksburgs stick together so that they can sit next to each other and watch their young princesses chat.

The wedding is nice. Denmark cries. Denmark loves weddings so much, Norway wonders at how they still affect him so much, but it’s sweet to see him happy. Norway would never admit it, but he watches Denmark more than he watches the actual ceremony. The ceremony is long and televised and they sing in languages that they’re not overly confident in, but it’s nice, all the same.

Once the vows are done and said and all the necessary documents are signed and pomp and ceremony is finished, they watch the happy couple move down the aisle and are free to move. Norway stands slowly, carefully waking up his legs and yawning quietly. He’s tired now, he misses the simple ceremony of his own wedding to Denmark, it was far quicker, being only a conversation that they both considered binding.

They’re about a third through this event. The ceremony is done, the marriage has happened, but they have to attend a reception, as well, that may drag into the early hours of the morning. Their next location, then is the high arched ballroom of a familiar palace. 

They let their attending royals lead the way, happy to follow them out of the church. They take care to walk slightly further apart than they might usually, paying careful mind to eager photographers who are now aware as to who they are.

As they move, there’s one particularly eager photographer who follows them, rather than focusing on the other big names in the assembled crowd. Norway is glad to see the back of him as they climb into the transportation that has been arranged for them.

And then they are gone. Gone to play their role in a familiar ballroom scene. They will eat and dance and chat, following social expectations to perfection. Denmark will fiddle with his Lego through the speeches, and Norway will watch him he listens to words of love and commitment.

When the music starts they will join the swirl of dancers, the nations in attendance falling into traditional step, dancing without thinking. Norway will smile as the dress he has picked swirls around him and reflect on what a good choice it has been. This is the photo that will get published, of Norway and Denmark arm in arm, matching smile for smile as red skirts swirl.

They will retire to a corner once Norway starts to hurt, taking a minute to breathe and rest aching feet. Then Norway will yawn, and they’ll finally cave in and return to their hotel to dance alone.

Later that night, as Norway listens to Denmark snore, he’ll reflect on the day and of his happiness and he’ll be glad he tried the dress. He always worries, but he’s usually just fine. 

He will slide easily into sleep, worries about clothing choices long behind, sleeping peacefully with Denmark by his side. Denmark will wake up the next morning, no alarm required, and turn to see Norway content in sleep, curls astray over the pillow. He will pack most of their belongings, fitting finery neatly into suitcases, before waking Norway to go home


End file.
